My Lady of Misrule: Wicked Winter Nights, Book One

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My Lady of Misrule: Wicked Winter Nights, Book One Page 6

by Amy Rose Bennett


  Minerva let out an unladylike snort of laughter. “Carriage sport?”

  “Why not call it that? There’s also up-against-a-wall sport. Bending-over-a-sofa sport. In-a-stack-of-hay sport. Bed sport is all well and good, but I firmly believe sexual intercourse should be enjoyed anywhere, anytime.”

  “Hmm. And with more than one partner?”

  Tristan held her gaze. “Sometimes,” he replied carefully. “Is that something you would like to try, Minerva? The possibilities are only limited by one’s imagination.”

  “No. No, I don’t think so. Of course, it would be hypocritical of me to pretend the antics I witnessed tonight at Pimpernel House weren’t titillating. But that doesn’t mean I wish to participate in anything like that.” How could she tell him she only wanted him? That he was the only one she fantasized about in the middle of the night as she wantonly touched herself. Making such an admission might scare a committed bachelor like him away, so she simply said, “I’d rather not share.”

  He nodded. “I must say, I’m more than a little relieved. In this instance I’d rather not share you either.”

  Oh. Minerva’s heart fluttered. But she really shouldn’t read too much into such a declaration.

  That wolfish grin flashed again. “So, now that we are both clear on that score, shall we begin? Let’s have some fun.”

  A shiver of delicious anticipation slid over Minerva’s skin. “Very well. What... what would you like to do first?”

  “Well, ordinarily I would ask you to strip so I could pay homage to your stunning tits. But seeing as it’s a bit chilly and dark...” Tristan leaned back in a relaxed pose as though he was settling himself in for a lazy night of reading in front of the fire. “Perhaps you can describe what they look like.”

  “Describe?” Minerva knew she sounded like a henwit, but really, this conversation was the most bizarre she’d ever had. She’d never thought someone like Sir Tristan King would ever refer to her breasts as ‘tits’. By rights she should be offended, but it was obvious this was a naughty game meant to stimulate her desire. The problem was, she had no idea how to play. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  “Just tell me about them. I want to picture them clearly,” said Tristan in a low, silky voice. He might be affecting a languid demeanor, but the intentness of his regard suddenly reminded Minerva of a hungry beast waiting to pounce. “For instance, I know from studying your figure that your bust is quite ample. But what shape are your breasts when you are without your stays and chemise? Are they firm and round like pomegranates, or more teardrop-shaped like succulent pears? I’ve always wanted to know.”

  Always wanted to know? Was that true, or was Tristan just saying that to coax her into participating? Either way, Minerva wanted to please him, so she cleared her throat and answered, “I’ve never really thought about them in that way, but I would say the latter...”

  “Beautiful,” he purred. “And what size and color are your nipples? Are they perky little nubs? Bright red like raspberries? Or large and dusky pink like soft rose petals? Or perhaps another shade of pink, or even brown?”

  “They’re large and... and if I must choose a shade, I would say coral. Or perhaps apricot if you prefer food analogies.” Dear God, did she really just say that?

  “And are your nipples hard beneath your clothes, Minerva? Are they aching to be released so that I may fondle and caress them? Lick and suck them?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, barely suppressing the urge to tear off her coat, waistcoat, shirt, and stays and throw herself at Tristan right then and there. The cold winter night no longer existed. She was burning up. Every nerve ending was on fire as searing desire licked through her body. Who’d have thought Tristan’s wicked words could have such a powerful effect?

  His next shocking question aroused her even more. “Are you wet, Minerva?”

  “Wet?” She knew exactly what Tristan meant of course, but the taboo surrounding such a subject momentarily tethered her tongue.

  Tristan sat forward, one of his long legs bumping hers. “Between your thighs. Your cunny. Is it hot and wet? Slippery with need?”

  There was no point in denying it, so she nodded. “Yes.”

  “Show me. I want to see.”

  “What?”

  “Show me,” he repeated in that low, soft voice of his which threatened to melt the last of her resistance if not all of her inhibitions. “Take off your gloves, undo the buttons securing the fall front of your pantaloons, then show me your wonderfully wet quim.”

  Minerva curled her gloved fingers around the edge of the velvet covered bench seat and pressed her thighs tightly together. Revealing her most private part to Tristan’s gaze suddenly seemed like an impossible feat. Why, she hardly ever looked down there. “But... but it’s dark.”

  “Not that dark.” Tristan sounded amused. “The light from the carriage and street lamps shall afford me tantalizing glimpses.”

  “All right...” Grateful that the shadows would at least hide her flaming face, Minerva pulled off her black kid gloves and tossed them onto the seat beside her. Then, she very slowly unfastened the buttons holding the fall in place. All the while, Tristan watched her, his eyes a burning indigo gleam in the night. How enthralled he was.

  Aroused. Even in the dim light, she could see how his erection had tented the front of his silk breeches and the knowledge he clearly wanted her gave her courage. She could do this. Not only for Tristan, but for herself.

  When she pushed the placket down, exposing the dark red curls covering her sex, Tristan sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes, that’s it, sweetheart. Don’t be ashamed. Now lean back, tilt your hips, and open your legs for me so I can see how beautiful you are.”

  Beautiful? Could a quim really be beautiful? Her heart beating a wild tattoo, Minerva closed her eyes and fulfilled Tristan’s request.

  “Ahhh.” Tristan’s deep sigh of approval was music to her ears. “Perfect. I love how wet you are. How you glisten. You’re going to play with your cunny, Minerva. Have you ever done that before? Made yourself come-off?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, trailing a trembling finger across the damp furrow of her sex. “Sometimes. When I’m alone in my bed.”

  “Excellent. Now part the petals of that pretty quim. That’s it.” Tristan’s words set her body ablaze. “Spread the slick nectar up to that tiny sensitive bud, your clitoris. Rub it, yes, just like that. Is that how you like it best, Minerva? Fast and in tiny circles?”

  Minerva nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. A blazing wildfire of need was rapidly building up inside her, threatening to consume her. While a sane part of her brain couldn’t quite believe she was doing this, another wicked and wanton part of her basked in the glory and freedom of it.

  She oh, so wanted to let go. But she also desperately needed Tristan to help. To touch her.

  Perhaps sensing she was almost at her peak, Tristan murmured, “Are you almost there, Minerva? I want to watch you come.”

  She opened her eyes. “I... I don’t know if I can...”

  “You will. I know you will.” Tristan was suddenly beside her, kissing her jaw, her neck. His hand slid under her coat and palmed her breast through her clothes. His hot breath caressed her ear as he whispered, “But perhaps it will help if I tell you what your reward will be when you do come for me. I’m going to feast upon your delicious cunny, Minerva. Bury my tongue deep inside you and make you scr—”

  And Minerva did. As her orgasm flared to life, it tore a hoarse cry from her throat. But Tristan immediately covered her mouth with his and absorbed the sound until it faded into a low moan. Gathering her close, he tucked her head beneath his chin and cradled her as tremors of bliss racked her body.

  “My beautiful, Minerva. You are oh, so perfect,” he whispered against her temple. “And I want you so much.”

  Minerva smiled against his chest. The steady thud of his heart was the loveliest sound she’d ever heard. “Really?”

  “Yes. Really.�
��

  Raising her head, she kissed the line of his jaw before whispering in his ear, “Then prove it. Show me. I want my reward.”

  Tristan chuckled then gently kissed Minerva’s sweet mouth. “You’ve certainly earned it,” he said. When he’d first decided to ask Minerva to pleasure herself for his delectation, he wasn’t at all certain she would go through with it. And he would have understood if she’d refused to play along. But after her revelation about David’s disgraceful neglect, he’d hoped she might be ready to try something new. To experiment.

  And the result of that experiment had been spectacular. Beneath her reserved, elegant exterior, Minerva hid a siren’s soul and he wanted her to embrace that side of herself. To explore every aspect of her passionate nature.

  Just as he was going to do now.

  He dropped to his knees on the floor and maneuvered himself between Minerva’s long, shapely legs. Stroking her pantaloon clad thighs, he looked up at her face. “Do you recall the antics of the milkmaids earlier tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how the blonde pleasured the brunette?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  “I’d like to do that to you. Worship your cunny with my mouth.”

  She smiled. “Yes please.”

  “As Madame Heloise said earlier this evening, your wish is my command, fair lady.”

  Minerva’s delighted sigh as she spread her legs wider and angled her hips toward him fired Tristan’s blood.

  Her surrender, her submission, was beyond intoxicating. Parting the ruffled outer lips of her sex, he exposed the dew-slick folds within. The scent of her arousal made his mouth water and his cock throb. But his release could wait. This was all about Minerva’s pleasure.

  Dipping his head, he slowly licked along each inner fold, savoring the taste of Minerva’s nectar on his tongue. He was rewarded with a gasp then a moaned ‘yes’ as Minerva speared her fingers into his hair.

  Taking her reaction as a clear sign of encouragement, Tristan applied himself to teasing her clitoris. It was too dark to see, but as he alternately suckled it and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, he could feel it was as hard and swollen and slick as a pearl.

  It wasn’t long before Minerva began to pant and writhe. Her hips rocked, and she gripped his head. He was driving her wild, and his heart swelled to think he was the first man to ever make her feel this way.

  The thought spurred him on. He wouldn’t be satisfied until Minerva shattered beneath his mouth and screamed his name to the heavens. After burying his tongue deep inside her sopping entrance to fully savor her essence, he then replaced it with two fingers, thrusting hard and fast, finger fucking her whilst he went back to working her clitoris with lips and tongue.

  Judging by the fact she was now moaning, and her fingers were twisting his hair so tightly it was beginning to hurt, she had to be close to orgasm. He slid a third finger inside her tight pussy and sucked hard on her clitoris. And that was enough to push her over the edge.

  Minerva’s whole body stiffened and she screamed again. But this time Tristan didn’t try to muffle the sound. He didn’t give a flying fuck who heard. All that mattered was Minerva had come, hard, and he’d been the one who’d driven her into mindless pleasure.

  He continued to lap at her sex, supping on her cunny’s sweet juices until she pushed his head away.

  “Oh, God, Tristan,” she whispered, stroking his face. “That was incredible. Thank you so much.”

  “It was my absolute pleasure, my lady.” Wiping his slick chin and lips, he joined her on the seat and kissed her tenderly.

  When he broke away she murmured, “Who’d have thought carriage sport could be so much fun? Although... ” Her hand slid down to cover his erection. “You haven’t had quite as much fun as me.”

  “Oh, believe me, making you come is all the fun I need.”

  “Are you certain?” Minerva gave his shaft a little squeeze and he couldn’t stifle a groan. His ballocks were rock-hard and felt like they were going to explode at any moment. “Because, the lesson doesn’t have to end just yet. I’d rather like to learn how to pleasure a man’s cock with my mouth too. I’ve never done that before. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible until tonight. That’s why I moved the curtain aside at Pimpernel House. I wanted a better view so I could see exactly what was going on.” Minerva squeezed his erection again. “Let me suck your cock, Tristan. Don’t make me beg.”

  Sweet Jesus, how could he resist such a request? “If you’re sure,” he said. “I know it’s late and getting colder by the moment in here.”

  She laughed in that rich, throaty way of hers that he loved. “I’ll survive.”

  “All right then.” He retrieved a blanket from the compartment beneath the opposite seat and after folding it, placed it on the floor so her knees wouldn’t get sore. “Kneel here, between my legs, just like I did with you.”

  Minerva arched a brow before complying. “So imperious, Sir Tristan,” she said, positioning herself in the way he’d asked. “You might have resigned your military commission, but I suspect the hard-as-steel cavalry officer in you still remains. You like telling me what to do, don’t you?”

  He tilted her chin up and studied her face. Had she worked him out already? “Yes I do. Does that bother you?”

  “No.” Her mouth curved in a shy smile. “Because I rather like it when you take control. It... it allows me to be myself.”

  Tristan cupped her jaw and stroked a thumb across the silken skin of her cheek. “Don’t ever be anything else, Minerva. Because I happen to think you are magnificent.”

  Turning her head, she kissed his palm, and Tristan’s heart gave the oddest thump. This night would have to be the strangest, yet most wonderful of his life so far. Who’d have thought the combination of lust and tenderness could be such a potent mix? This encounter was heading into unchartered territory, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

  While he’d never been a coward, he strove to steer this interaction down a more familiar path. “Now, you say you want to suck my cock, Minerva. But given this is your first time, I’ll give you a choice about whether you want to swallow my seed or not. I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”

  Minerva’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I never considered such a thing. But... what would you prefer? I’m amenable to trying anything.”

  “I like it when my sexual partner swallows,” Tristan confessed. “However, I can easily come in my kerchief.” He pulled one from the inner pocket of his footman’s coat and draped it over his shoulder in readiness.

  She placed her palms upon his silk clad thighs, and even that light touch seemed to burn Tristan’s flesh. “I want to please you as much as you’ve pleased me,” she murmured huskily, “so I’m happy for you to spend in my mouth.”

  Tristan’s cocked jerked as though nodding in agreement. “So be it, my wicked lady. Let the lesson begin.”

  Minerva drew a deep, bracing breath into her lungs. She wanted to do this well. To thank Tristan in kind. “What shall I do first?”

  Tristan leaned back a little so his lean hips tilted toward her. “Undo the fall of my breeches and take my shaft in one of your hands to hold it steady. Feel free to stroke and squeeze me too. Fondle my ballocks. I won’t break.”

  “All right.” Minerva was all thumbs as she freed Tristan’s manhood from his breeches, but her clumsiness didn’t seem to diminish his arousal. His long, thick, steel-hard cock sprang free, and she gasped at the sight. “My word, Tristan. I must say, you are very well-endowed.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” he said in a tight voice. “I must warn you, my control is hanging by a thread. I’m primed to come-off.”

  “I can’t wait,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the hot, silky shaft near the base. The black, wiry bush of curls tickled her skin and the strong column seemed to pulse as she gently squeezed. Emboldened by Tristan’s rapt expression, she ran her hand up to the large plum-shape
d head and back down again.

  Almost immediately Tristan hissed. “I’m already leaking, Minerva. If you want to see how I taste before I erupt completely, now would be the perfect time.”

  Bending her head, Minerva gave the swollen head of his cock a tentative lap. His seed had a slightly musky, salty flavor that wasn’t unpleasant. Swallowing a good deal more wouldn’t be onerous at all. To show him she wasn’t put off in the slightest, she flicked her tongue over him again before licking all around the rim. Then she surrounded him with her lips, suckling ever-so gently. At the same time, she gently rolled his heavy balls between her fingers.

  Tristan seemed pleased with her efforts as his hips bucked and he groaned. “That’s it, sweetheart. Do you think you can take more of me into your mouth?”

  “Of course.” Still holding his cock with one hand, she swallowed as much of him as she could. He was huge and she could feel her jaw stretching to accommodate him, but the slight discomfort was worth it when Tristan groaned again.

  On his next thrust, he rode her tongue all the way to the back of her throat before pulling out.

  “Fuck, Minerva,” he grated out. “You didn’t gag.”

  No, she hadn’t and Tristan was clearly impressed. To show him she wanted him to continue, she plunged down then up again, hollowing her cheeks to increase the suction, just like she’d seen the brunette prostitute do.

  “Christ.” Tristan wound a fist into her hair and thrust all the way into her mouth before withdrawing and pushing in again. And again. His pace increased and Minerva gripped his cock harder and opened her jaw wider. More of his seed leaked down her throat and she swallowed. Her own excitement was building. She was going to make Tristan come.

  “Jesus Christ,” he rasped. “Are you... are you ready, Minerva? Because... fuck, here it comes...”

  He clutched her head and his seed flooded her mouth in a great, hot torrent. Screwing her eyes shut, Minerva focused on swallowing every last drop he expended. However, despite her best efforts, some of his semen escaped her lips, coating her chin and slipping over her fingers, which were still wrapped around his pulsating shaft.

 

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